


Play On

by zarabithia



Category: Country Music RPF, Taylor Swift (Musician), Western Solo Artists RPF
Genre: Gen, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-15
Updated: 2010-12-15
Packaged: 2017-10-13 16:35:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/139376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zarabithia/pseuds/zarabithia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The great zombie apocalypse hit twelve months ago. Carrie and Taylor are still fighting the good fight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Play On

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



When the great zombie apocalypse hit Nashville, the Grand Ole Opry was the first to fall. Carrie remembered that night, the terrified screams as the zombies claimed their victims, as well as desperate clamor of innocents struggling to push one another out of the way in a bid to save themselves.

The memory was particularly vivid twelve months later, as Carrie pushed her way back through the doors of the Ryman Auditorium. After she broke down the door, the rest of her crew went on ahead of her, seeking out the supplies they'd already been ordered to look for. Carrie watched them go and hung back to survey the damage toll.

Her boots, well worn by the toil of leading her particular pack of resistance fighters, crunched through the majority of the wreckage just fine, but a stray beam clung to the heel of her left boot. Carrie gave a frustrated jerk in an attempt to pull her foot free, and the action resulted in the bottom of her boot being torn.

"Well, that's just fantastic, isn't it, Ace?" Her beloved pooch looked up at her and gave a half-hearted wag of his tail. Carrie took a deep breath, letting the frustration out slowly, and scratched Ace behind the ears.

She didn't pick him up, though. It was tempting, but Carrie knew better than anyone that she needed both her hands free at all times. As much as she missed cuddling Ace, a moment's hesitation in reaching for her weapon might be too long. She couldn't afford to let her guard down - even in a moment of respite, like the retaking of the Grand Ole Opry was supposed to be.

"Carrie!"

And despite her alertness, Carrie tensed as Taylor called out her name. She turned quickly towards the stage, using the front of her broken boot to pivot on, silently grateful for all the stage workouts that made such maneuvers so easy, even if it did finish off the heel of her boot completely. Twelve months of experience made her take in Taylor's appearance, looking for the pale skin, blank look, and other signs of zombie infestation.

It was a tense couple of moments, and Carrie didn't bother to hide her sigh of relief when none of the signs showed up.

Taylor tilted her head, before tossing her a toothy grin. "No, still not a _zombie_ , Carrie."

Carrie tried not to resentful of the ease with which that smile came over Taylor's face. Those few years in age made all the difference.

And wasn't it a good sign of the kind of leader Carrie'd been, that those following her could have faith enough to still hold their heads high?

"I'm glad you're not a zombie," Carrie answered. "I see you found supplies?"

"Oh, yeah!" Taylor hoisted the boots in her hands triumphantly into the air. "The zombies left the dressing rooms alone. Not surprisingly, I guess."

"No, not particularly surprising." Carrie made her way over to the stage and took the offered pair of boots. She toed her old, raggedy boots off, and wondered idly at the pink contraptions that Taylor had unearthed. "I'm surprised you didn't keep these for yourself."

Taylor stuck her hip out, wriggling her toes in Carrie's direction, displaying the intricate sparkle of the gems that decorated the boots, which came just short of Taylor's knees. "I thought about it, but are you kidding? Look at _these_! All this rhinestone? These look like they could have belonged to Porter Wagoner at one point."

Carrie cast a doubtful glance at them. "Porter passed long before the zombie apocalypse began. Somehow I don't think your boots are _that_ old."

Taylor pouted. "Probably not. But they're still _nice._ "

"Yeah, they are." Carrie gave a small, sympathetic smile as she slipped her feet into the pink boots. They'd do - they fit more than they didn't, and the pink shade and rhinestones covered up a tough leather exterior that would be helpful the next time they had to wade through a pile of bodies. "The dressing room bringing back a lot of memories for you, isn't it?"

"Nooo," Taylor attempted to deny.

" _Taylor,_ " Carrie said, in her most stern voice, which sounded, to her ears more like an imitation of her mother's voice. She sighed, because twelve months was far too long to give into the tears, no matter bittersweet the memory of the plans she'd made for motherhood might have been. "You're a terrible liar."

"No, I'm a _great_ liar. I dated John Mayer. You can't do that and not pick up _tricks_ , you know. Of course I also was in the middle of dating _Jake Gyllenhaal_ before the freaking _zombies_ got in the way." Taylor shook her fist metaphorically at the entry to the Ryman with such fervor that Carrie turned to make sure no zombies had managed to slip their way in. "Thanks for screwing that up for me, zombies!"

"And when this is all over," Carrie assured her, "you'll be able to get back to singing about those missed opportunities."

Taylor placed her hands on her hips. "Even if we win this - and I'm not sure we will - I don't think we will be able to go back to singing about our mundane little problems. If we even have an audience left, which is doubtful."

Carrie shook her head and made her way onto the stage. It too had taken on damage during initial fight, and she had to carefully test the sturdiness of the slanted boards before placing her full weight on them.

When she finally stood next to Taylor, she grasped Taylor's arms in her hands, forcing the other girl to look at her. "We can't be all there is," she said firmly. "Somewhere out there are other groups, just like us."

"Yeah, Reba's probably still out there kicking ass," Taylor acknowledged. "Maybe Willie, too. The drugs never killed him, it's hard to imagine the zombies doing it."

"I meant normal, ordinary people," Carrie said patiently. "Their home base might not be the Grand Ole Opry, their boots might not have as much rhinestone and their weapons might not have been fashioned from musical instruments, but just like us, they're doing the best they can."

"When Dolly was alive, she was a much better at these leader speeches," Taylor informed her.

Well, Carrie was too smart to argue with that. "Yes, she was. But my point is that, if Dolly were still alive, she'd give the same advice I'm about to give. When this is over, we'll be singing about the mamas we lost, the men we'll never kiss again, and how sweet that first bite of home cooking tastes when you've gone so long without it."

"And zombies."

"And zombies. And minus the zombies, it's the same thing we've always been singing about, and those songs have always had an audience. There's no reason to think that will be different after the zombie threat is over," Carrie said firmly. She let go of Taylor's arms and the younger woman reached over and hugged her.

It was a terrible tactical move and Carrie tensed, expecting a horde of zombies to interrupt them and take advantage of the situation. Paranoia, to be sure, but it was the kind of paranoia that had kept them alive so far.

"Dolly definitely gave better speeches," Taylor whispered in Carrie's ear, "but I like yours too."

"Dolly gave better compliments than you do, too," Carrie said dryly, breaking the hug.

"Well, it's an earnest compliment to say that I can't wait until you're on this stage giving another acceptance speech instead of a pep talk?" Taylor offered.

Carrie gave a small smile. "And it's an earnest compliment from me that I can't wait to see what you manage to make rhyme with 'zombie' in your songs."

"Well, maybe I can get started on that while we continue our supply raid," Taylor said optimistically.

"Hopefully Kellie or Chely found some food that isn't _too_ outdated," Carrie agreed.

Taylor hummed quietly next to Carrie, searching for words that _did_ rhyme with zombie, as the two of them continued back into what had once been the backstage area. Ace followed closely behind them, faithfully upholding the spirit of their teamwork as best as a dog possibly could.


End file.
